Stormy Grey
by Diamond Pawn
Summary: A re-write of Two Times Cursed. Needed a new name, don't kill me! Bad summary, but oh well. SI. May or may not be romance in the later chapters. T for later chapters, too and it's mostly just for just-in-case .
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, so I decided to slow the plot down a bit xD Hope you guys don't mind. If you don't like it, let me know D: Instead of starting in high school, it now starts with Jenna as a child. Don't worry, there's probably going to be a bit of a time-skip later. She still meets Allen in high-school. Sorry for the derpiness! Hope you guys will give me a few chapters' leeway to get this ball rolling, haha.**

Jenna had always been plagued by the disfavor of others. She often ran off to hide in a secluded place to cry the tears her pride wouldn't allow her to shed in the face of her peers, which happened more often than not. Today was no different.

She was hiding in a playground, tears flowing quickly down her cheeks in a futile attempt to wash away her classmates' stinging words, when her father found her. She knew it was him because of his brown leather shoes and his suit pants, which wafted his familiar cologne scent to her when he walked. His feet stopped next to the yellow slide she was hiding under, stirring up a tiny cloud of dust.

She shifted away and faced her back to him, sniffling. "Go away," she commanded, voice thick with misery. He squatted so he could see her, one hand on the slide for balance.

"Why?" he asked. His voice was not accusing or judgmental.

Jenna's lower lip protruded and she didn't answer for a while. More tears raced down her face, hot and sticky and humiliating. At length, she told him resentfully, voice uneven, "Because I hate you."

He didn't seem upset by this declaration. Instead, he answered patiently, "Why do you hate me?" It was what he always asked when she had a tantrum, but he didn't seem bored or impatient. Just concerned.

She replied with a very descriptive, "Because."

In truth, she didn't hate him at all. She loved him so much, it hurt. She just wished he didn't look the way he did. His dark skin and unusual forehead markings made him the target of many of her classmate's jokes, as well as their neighbors'. As a young child, she didn't nearly have the right mind-set for this kind of mental abuse, and her natural instinct was to lash out to relieve her own pain.

In a way, she was very glad to have taken after her mother in appearance, what with black eyes and hair and pale, porcelain skin, because, although she thought her father was very good looking, what with his dark skin and contrasting golden eyes, she wasn't teased for looking like a foreigner. Dark skin wasn't what you would call common here.

It started drizzling, but neither of them moved. After a lengthy pause, he held out his hand and said, "Come on, let's go home."

When she made no sign she'd heard, he picked her up and hoisted her over his shoulders, where she sat sniffling into his hair.

They began their walk home, not speeding up or slowing down even when it started to rain harder. By the time they'd got home to their little apartment, both were soaked through.

"Go warm yourself up in the shower. I'll make some dinner," he told his daughter, who presently sneezed. He smiled at her, and she managed a scowl back.

The shower was warm and soothing, and she stayed a little longer than she might normally have, allowing the rhythmic jets of water wipe away her tear stains.

By the time she emerged, a fluffy towel around her neck, the kitchen was warm and toast with the smell of spaghetti on the stove.

"Right on time," her father said cheerfully, pouring the boiling water out of the pot and allowing the noodles to cool. His wavy black hair, slightly longer than the average male's, was pinned back, sticking up oddly in places. He'd replaced his bulky sweater with a sky-blue apron and had rolled up his sleeves (unevenly, she noticed) so that they didn't get caught in anything while he cooked.

She sat at the counter and rested her head on her hands, still sulky, but that didn't last as long as she'd have wanted as her father slid a steaming bowl of spaghetti under her nose. She breathed in the fresh, mouth-watering aroma that was rising off the bowl and wasn't surprised when her stomach gave an answering rumble.

Before she could muster up a proper 'thanks', he'd dashed off to the shower, sneezing, with a "Eat up!" thrown over his shoulder. She heard rather than saw him throw the apron onto the sofa.

Alone, Jenna found it easier to admit that her anger had drained and left her very, very hungry. She scarfed down her first bowl, barely stopping to blow on the hot food and getting burned in her eagerness. Halfway through her third helping, her father reappeared looking refreshed.

"How's the food?" he asked as he pulled out his own plate. "It's my specialty, you know!"

Jenna rolled her eyes. He said everything was his specialty. Then again, it _was _good. She bobbed her head in reply, mouth full of the Italian cuisine. He chuckled and ruffled her hair as he walked around her to sit next to her, his plate piled high with food. Feeling stuffed after three bowls, she just sat back to watch him inhale the noodles.

"Not gonna ea'?" he asked, mouth full, watching her out of the corner of his eyes.

"Already ate," Jenna said nonchalantly, not adding that she'd finished three bowls.

"There's a bit left," he informed her, looking guiltily at his own enormous helping.

_Impressive_, Jenna thought. _How much did he make? That pot doesn't even look that big!_ She shrugged. "You can have it."

"You're really going to make me fat," he accused, eyes laughing. She hid a smile by turning to look at the clock hanging on the wall.

"It's this late already?" she gasped. "I'm going to bed!" She jumped off the stool, and, after a small pause, hugged her dad around the middle, making him start with surprise. Before he could swallow his mouthful and say something, she muttered, "night," and hurried off to bed, face red.

"Good night!" he called, somewhat belatedly as Jenna slammed the door. He sighed. "Kids."

**Okay, there's the short chapter one! Hope you didn't hate it too much. And young Jenna seems to be quite a daddy's girl, huh? xD Let me know what you think? If you want me to go back to the old one, that's fine too.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey! You're reading this! I'm amazed and very grateful. Anyhow, probably shouldn't expect too many chapters per time period. This is only up so fast because I'm still trying to get the ball rolling! xD Oh, and just kidding I lied o-o Minor plot change due to circumstances. Read on.**

The next few years zipped by in a happy blur. Just when the weather was beginning to turn cold, Jenna began to notice that her father was acting oddly, disappearing randomly, completely unreachable, though never more than a few hours at a time. He had also taken to glancing over his shoulder and, to her confusion, into the sky.

Jenna hadn't asked him what was wrong, though his new attitude made her jumpy and upset. She was, however, afraid that if she asked, he would get upset at her. Instead, she made secret plans to ask her uncle Mana, of whom she knew was very close to her father, when they went to visit him over Christmas.

Nea Walker, of course, had insisted that they went down to Mana's every Christmas Eve to stay for a few nights. Jenna had always gone with him before and didn't see why this year would be any different. She didn't mind, either, the trips to Uncle Mana's. He was a very nice man, if somewhat formal.

Actually, Uncle Mana looked a lot like her father, except the way he did his hair. While Nea Walker wore his hair in a scruffy, spiky cut, Mana had worn his hair in a long, sleek ponytail which Jenna secretly admired. _And usually Uncle Mana looks more well groomed than dad does_, Jenna giggled. Her giggle quickly died in her throat, though, as the present caught up. Something was wrong with Nea Walker, and she wanted to know what.

On December 20th, Jenna's school let out for winter break. It was only a matter of time before the traditional visit. She began to count the days until Christmas Eve with more eagerness than she had shown in previous years.

Two days before the date of the trip, Jenna was in her room making a list of things to pack when her father called her from the living room. Curious, she poked her head out, and, not able to see him from the hall, hurried into the kitchen and turned left into the living room. Her dad was sitting on the sofa, skimming the newspaper with a frown. When she walked in, he looked up and smiled, eyes crinkling.

"Come sit down. I need to talk to you," he informed her, patting the fluffy cushion next to him. Feeling nervous, she moved forward and perched at the corner, ready to bolt.

Nea Walker laughed, but it sounded a bit strained. "There's no need to look so nervous. You're not in trouble." A pause. "I just wanted to tell you that you'll need to pack more than usual this year, as we'll be staying a little longer. Also, I'll probably be away a lot…"

_Why? _She wanted to wail. It's not that she didn't like her uncle. It's just that things got a bit awkward when her father wasn't there to smooth over the rough patches. Instead, she replied a bit too cheerfully, "Okay. How long are we staying?"

"Err… Maybe a year," he said, suddenly very interested in an advertisement on the newspaper.

"A _year_?" Jenna gaped. "But… but what about school?"

Her father shifted uncomfortably. "It's for good cause," he said in a way that suggested this 'good cause' was a massive secret.

"Is it the bills? Are we in debt?" Jenna demanded, eyes bright with worry. "I could get a job. We could move somewhere cheaper—"

"It's not money, Jenna, honey."

"Then what? Are you being threatened? Do you have a stalker?" She couldn't help it. Her voice was rising with each blurted question.

"No, what—no!" he exclaimed. "It's just that I've been rather—" there was a fraction of a pause before he picked back up and finished in a rush, "—busy lately, and Mana would be able to keep an eye on you."

"But I can take care of myself!" Jenna said exasperated. This didn't make any sense. She'd been alone in the house before, and if he was back in a day or two, it's not as if she would starve or anything.

"Why are you making this a big deal?" he countered, equally exasperated. "Do you not like Mana? Just think of it as an extended vacation!"

"But I don't _want_—" _you to leave, _she almost said. Actually, she was hoping that if he knew she was alone in the house, he would hurry home. However, her unspoken words left a big gap, and Nea had misinterpreted it.

Furious, Nea snapped. "This isn't about what you want, Jennifer Walker! Your uncle has been kind enough to allow us to even stay for so long. If it weren't for the circumstances, I wouldn't want to bother him either! This is _not _your decision!" he finished, breathing hard.

Jenna had never seen her father look so angry before, and he _never _used her full name, even when she'd been particularly selfish. Stunned and hurt, Jenna felt her eyes begin to water. Before the tears spilled, she whipped around and ran to her room, slamming the door and locking it behind her.

Mind whirling, Jenna curled up on the bed, hugging the teddy bear her father had gotten her on her third birthday. All she kept thinking was how absurdly unfair her father was being. "That's not what I'd meant," she mumbled to the bear. Despite her bitterness at his outburst, she still couldn't help wishing that he were there to comfort her as he usually did, which was a little silly.

Just about when she'd cried herself out and was in the hiccupping phase, there was a hesitant knock on her door. "Jenna?" Nea Walker's voice floated through the door. "Honey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell. Will you open the door, please?"

Still hugging her bear, Jenna rolled slowly out of bed and unlocked the door, then crawled back into bed. She heard him ease the door open. Nea poking his head in and looking around for Jenna. He spotted the big bundle of quilt she was obviously hiding under and ghosted over to sit on the edge of the bed. She felt the mattress shift under his weight, but didn't come out from under the quilt.

"Jenna?" he called quietly, gently lifting the corner of quilt above where he thought her head was. She didn't bother to move it back. Instead, she just looked accusingly at him with red, puffy eyes. "Come on," he tempted. "It must be hot under all those blankets."

Her lower lip slid out in a clear 'I don't care' way. He sighed. "I'm sorry I snapped at you." He put a hand on her shoulder. "I'm just under a lot of stress."

She sniffed loudly.

"Is it really that bad to visit your uncle?"

"No," came the tiny reply.

"Then what's up, kiddo? You're not usually this… reluctant."

The blanket mountain shifted, and he felt small arms circle around his waist. He smiled and patted her head gently. "I don't like being away from you, either," he admitted. "And I wouldn't unless it was really important. You know that, right?"

"Yes," the blankets mumbled and hiccupped.

"I love you very much," he declared to the blankets. "You're my little treasure."

"Love you, too," the blankets confessed, making him smile.

"Come on, let's see that face," Nea said, moving the blankets off and revealing a messy-haired Jenna who's nose was running onto his shirt.

"Eww," he yelped dramatically, leaping back and pretending to be horrified. He was rewarded with a small giggle. He walked back over and ruffled her already disheveled hair. "Get some sleep," he said, kissing her on the forehead. "Tomorrow's going to be a crazy packing day."

Jenna nodded and flopped back on her bed, wrestling with the thick blankets to get comfortable. "Good night," he said, turning off the lights on his way out.

**Uhhh, to be honest, I just realized Nea is supposed to have red hair. But… He's gonna have black hair in this fic. My bad! **


End file.
